


Red

by This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username



Series: A Collection of One-Shots for THC [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Ginny Weasley is a Good Friend, Hermione Is Hurting, I Won't Say Who, Miscarriage, Not Epilogue Compliant, Someone dies, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username/pseuds/This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username
Summary: Red, like the blood of the battle. Red, like the last rose he gave her. Red, like the loss that stung her every day. Hermione can't keep it together anymore.





	Red

Hermione laid down on her back, with her brown hair splayed on the damp grass under her head. She opened her eyes to the stars, breathing in the chilly night air. It bit at her skin, sharp and unapologetic, raising Goosebumps and sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't feel her toes, and her fingers were numb in the cool, bitter air of the night.

Hermione closed her eyes at the twinkling stars. The headache she had earlier was reduced into a dull throb. She sighed; she had welcomed the pain, it was better than the sharp stabs in her heart and the twisting of her stomach.

She had stopped crying a while ago, but she felt the need rising stronger than she could've expected. She felt her tears run down the side of her face, they were icy and freezing, but she refused to acknowledge them.

She turned her head against the harsh winds picking up on the lawn. The trees wailed, and Hermione could almost imagine that they were echoing her own sobs from years ago. She shook her head, dispelling the thoughts from her head. Then she sniffed, the memories poking at her through the walls she had built around herself.

She exhaled the breath that she had been holding, and she finally let herself succumb to the pressure behind her eyes. Her cries were muffled by the storm picking up around her. She didn't care that she was in the middle of a bone-chilling, sick-inducing storm. Nor did she care that she was being pelted with hard raindrops, frosty and unrelenting. They stung her exposed skin, stabbing like little pinpricks and needles.

Hermione found herself remembering the day everything went wrong. The day where everything was red. Red, like the blood of the battle, red, like the last rose he gave her. Red, like the loss that stung her every day.

She had imagined a life where she would pick up a blond, curly-haired child, and he would hold her and giggle. He would say that daddy was looking for her, and Hermione would walk with the boy on her hip until she neared a house. Their house, she recognized.

She'd set the boy down and she would see the glint of a ring on her finger. The boy would run into the house and drag out a smiling man. The man she knew so well, the man she'd grown to love. She would smile and kiss him lightly, before walking with her son and her husband into the house, her swollen stomach making her waddle. The man would lean down and whisper how much he loved her into her ear, and she would smirk and say- "I know, Draco."

And then she would feel the baby kick, and put her hand over the baby girl. And her son would run up and press his ear over her stomach and giggle.

"Little sister!" He would say, and Draco would chuckle, ruffling his hair.

But Hermione always woke up after she dreamt those dreams, reaching over in the bed to touch Draco, only to realize he wasn't there. She could feel the cool bed sheets under her fingers, and her smile would slip from her face. Then, she would remember the blood, bright and horrifying. Then, she would cry.

_The day she felt the pains and cramps in her stomach, was the one day he wasn't there to comfort her. The blood and tissue spilled from her, all over the bed sheets and her clothes. It pooled around her and she couldn't get out of bed, sobs and pain wracking her body._

_She had called out for Draco, but he wasn't there. The bed was empty, and she was alone to her thoughts and agony._

_She called for Mrs. Weasley, who found her hysterical, covered in her own crimson blood._

_"Lost the baby¦"_

_"Poor thing€¦"_

_"Hermione Draco¦ Gone"_

Hermione heard the voices exchanged between Mrs. Weasley and Fred. Fred, who was saved by Draco. Hermione didn't want to hate him, but that didn't matter. She did, and was reminded of that as her skin turned an awful pink and her lips were blue.

She let that thought go, grasping onto another memory of Draco before his death.

_She saw the rose before her, like a beacon of light and hope in the small world of hate and agony. She took it from Draco's outstretched hand, falling into the memory._

_Hermione brought the rose to her nose, smiling as Draco held onto her waist, kissing her temple._

_"Happy one-year anniversary, Granger," he whispered into her ear._

_"Likewise, Malfoy," Hermione grinned, rubbing one of the petals between her fingers. She was aware of Draco's thumbs rubbing comforting circles around her hips. She sighed and leaned back into him, resting her head on his chest. He kissed her cheek._

_Draco buried his face in her neck and she giggled, as he breathed in her scent of lavender and honey, forever etching her smiling face into his memory._

_"I love you, Granger," Draco whispered._

_"I love you, too, Malfoy," Hermione said, feeling content with her life. The sun shone down on Draco and Hermione, standing in the sand by the Black Lake. Hermione felt warm and fuzzy inside. She crushed a petal between her fingers when Draco nibbled on the sensitive behind her ear. Her fingers were stained red from all the rose petals she pressed between her fingers that afternoon._

Hermione gasped, forcing her eyes open to the rain. The sobs that wracked her body left her an exhausted heap in the storm. Sleet was starting to fall over her prone body, and she shook with the cold and anger bubbling deep within her. She was sure she had frostbite, not that she minded.

She didn't know what to do without him. Without Draco, she was just Hermione Granger, book-worm and motherly, without him she wasn't special. She wasn't loved like she was when she had him by her side. No one was there to wake her up by licking her ear in the morning, or to cut her hair while she was sleeping.

Without Draco, she didn't have someone to argue with, without the other one taking the words she said personally. Without Draco, Hermione was just Hermione- The girl that took your fanged-frisbees and was the top of her class. No one saw her the way Draco had.

He was her competition, her lover, her fighter, her challenge, her friend. He was the shoulder to cry on even if he had no idea why she was upset, and he wouldn't press her for information if she didn't want to talk. He sometimes understood what was happening and how you were feeling before everyone else. Other times, he was clueless and lost, but he would hide it well.

He was full of surprises, too. She remembered the day after she became Draco's girlfriend, when she had expected him to be hush-hush about their relationship.

Draco walked over to the Gryffindor table and stood on top of it, kicking plates and bowls out of the way. He marched down the table to where Hermione sat and drew out his wand.

_"Sonorus," Draco said, pointing his wand at his throat. Everyone was watching him, including Hermione, who was beet red. He locked eyes with her, and she worriedly chewed her lip, making him smirk. "Hermione Granger, would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" Draco asked, making sure everyone could hear. Harry and Ron were outraged, and looked like they were about to hex him. The rest of the Gryffindors were looking around the same way._

_The Ravenclaws looked at them quizzically, except for Luna, who was smiling dreamily at Hermione. Hermione looked up at Draco, and she saw, (even know she was pretty sure no one else did,) that he was nervous, and hopeful. After what seemed like forever, and Hermione finally got her limbs to work, she jumped up and hugged him._

_Silence met them, but they didn't care. Luna was the first to do something._

_"Finally," she said, her voice carrying through the Great Hall._

_Ginny started clapping, followed by the twins and then Harry, who was confused but smiling. After no time, everyone was applauding, except for the Slytherins and Ron. Draco smirked at him and shifted his foot slightly, knocking over Ron's pumpkin juice. He was spluttering and a puce that could rival Harry's uncle._

Hermione wasn't just Hermione when she was with Draco, Draco made her feel as if she could do anything, like she was amazing. He made her feel like she was floating on air, and like it didn't matter what she did because she could do no wrong.

So now, she had no clue what to do. She wasn't on clouds anymore, she wasn't in the right all the time. She made mistakes that everyone forgiven her for. When Draco was with her, he never forgave her, because in his eyes she didn't do anything wrong; she was perfect. And he loved her.

_Hermione was curled up in his bed with a book in her hands. Draco was lying across from her, studying her as she bit her lip in concentration._

_They had just been sitting there for an hour, laying down on his silver bed sheets. Sunlight was pouring in through the open windows, warming their bodies. They were fully clothed, much to Hermione's relief. She was a little worried when he invited her into his room, and when he sat in front of her on the bed, but he hadn't tried anything. She wasn't ready for that, and he didn't push her._

_He was stroking her cheek with his knuckles, watching as she sighed happily._

_"Granger," he said softly. Her eyes flicked up to him, then back at the book. His eyes were intense and she couldn't quite place the look in them. Passion? Dare she hope- Love?_

_"Hmm?" She asked, not really trusting herself to form words._

_"Granger, look at me, please," Draco said, using that voice she rarely heard. He was pleading with her, though he didn't know she knew. She shut her book slowly, finishing the page she was on._

_"Yes, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, trying to sound irritated. She was smiling, though, so the effect was different than she wanted._

_"I want to tell you something. Something I've never told anyone before," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Her heart fluttered._

_"Yes?" She breathed, and his hand cupped her cheek._

_"I love you, Hermione," he said quietly. After a few seconds of silence, Draco added, "You're supposed to say something, now."_

_"I- Draco, I love you, too," she said, using his first for once. His breath caught, and suddenly he was kissing her. His lips were soft and patient, so unlike himself. He was soft and kind, unhurried and caring. She liked this side of him._

_"Thank you," he whispered against her lips. She smirked- and he suddenly wondered if he was rubbing off on her._

_"I don't think that's what you're supposed to say after someone expresses their love for you. But, you're welcome, Malfoy," Hermione chuckled, but Draco wasn't having it._

_"Granger, I'm serious. I don't know what I would do without you," Draco said, and she smiled._

_"I don't know either, Malfoy," Hermione whispered. Draco pulled her closer so that their foreheads were touching, and their eyes were locked. Grey eyes with small silver flakes almost impossible to see. Brown eyes, ringed with barely noticeable shades of brown. Toffee and chocolate and chestnut._

_He kissed her forehead and she turned so that her back was pressed against him. His arm was around her waist, and she reopened her book. Her eyes grew heavy as she listened to his even breathing, and his body was warm against hers. It wasn't long until she was asleep._

_Draco smiled at her and plucked the book from her limp hands. He drew the blanket over them and felt himself relax. He closed his eyes, not quite asleep but not awake, either._

Hermione remembered the day she found out Draco had died. She walked into Hogwarts, staring at the once grand hallways that were now covered with dust and blood. She was expecting to find Draco, standing in a corner, his face grave and unhappy. She was in no way prepared to find him on a stretcher, with no one by his side. His face was so peaceful.

At first, she just stared at him blankly, not really knowing why he was there by himself, or why he was covered in blood. She sat by his side, on her knees and pale. She knew it before Harry came up to her to hug her. She knew that the last time he'd seen her, he refused to kiss her goodbye because he was sure he was coming back.

He'd convinced her to stay in the Room of Requirement. "If not for your own safety, then for Scorpius's." Draco had said, and he rubbed her stomach before leaving her with Tonks, who eventually left, too. Hermione had stayed and watched Teddy for her.

Hermione found herself covering Draco's body as if to protect him from more harm. She didn't feel the sobs, but she heard them. Heard how broken and angry she sounded. But she knew that no one was listening because her cries were mixed with countless others.

Four years later, Hermione was having a hard time breathing on the lawn of her house. She was shivering, freezing, but on fire. Her eyes were rolling back into her head when she felt someone pull her back into her house. A flash of black hair, worried voices, strong hands. Her vision went dark.

She woke up hours later in St. Mungo's, that much she knew. She looked around the room, finding her skin stiff and puffy. She looked at her hands, and saw that they were swollen and purple. She glanced at the people on either side of the bed, feeling sluggish and weary.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, spotting someone with blond hair. Everyone stirred. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Luna. Oh. It was Luna, not Draco. It made her sad and achy inside.

"Hermione? Oh, thank god, you're awake. What were you thinking?" Demanded Ginny. Luna put her hand over the red-head's fist and shook her head.

"It's over with, now. Why she did it doesn't matter. How are you feeling Hermione?" Luna said, directing the last part to Hermione.

"I've been better," Hermione croaked, and Ron laughed tentatively. Harry shared a weak smile with his wife. Ginny took Harry's hand and squeezed it in a reassuring way.

"Hermione, we thought that you were getting better. That you were getting over _his_ death," Ron said quietly, and everyone looked shocked. Even Luna, who was normally unfazed, shot Ron a look.

"Ron, if Lavender died, what would you do? If Ginny II died, what would you do?" Hermione asked quietly, and Ron looked at his feet. "I can't forget! Every time I go to sleep, do you know what I dream about?"

Ron shook his head and Hermione continued, "I dream about a little boy with curly blond hair running up to me. I dream that he brings me from the beach up to a little wooden house on the edge of the sand. I dream that I have a ring on my left ring finger, and that I'm pregnant with a little girl that I'll never have! And Draco's right beside me the whole time, helping me cook dinner for our four-year-old boy!" Hermione confessed, and she broke into tears. Ginny wiped the tears off Hermione's face, shooting a glare to Ron. Ron got the hint and left, muttering his apologies and goodbyes. Luna took Hermione's hand.

"I know how you feel, Hermione. I know that it hurts so much," Luna said. Harry quietly excused himself from Hermione's side. "I know that when people say that it gets better, and that you'll move on it hurts, and it makes you angry. I know that you don't want to move on. And I find myself wondering what I should say, but I really don't know," Luna said softly. This was the most serious and sane she'd ever sounded. Hermione looked at her, her mind reeling with the truths Luna spoke.

"We love you, Hermione. If you ever need anything, we're here," Ginny said, grabbing Hermione's puffy hand.

"Well, there is one thing," Hermione said, a small smile on her face.

"What is it?"

"Could you remove anything red and gold from my apartment? I prefer green and-" Hermione said, only partially joking, when Luna interrupted.

"Silver. Green and silver," Luna said wistfully. "I've always liked the color combination," Luna said, back to her loony self.

Ginny laughed. "I like my red hair, thanks."

"Yeah," Hermione said, thinking of all the red things she went over in her head hours before. Red, like the blood of the battle. Red, like the last rose he gave her. Red, like the loss that stung her every day. And now, Ginny's fiery red hair.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for The Houses Competition, submitted for Hufflepuff.  
> The prompt for this one was "Red."  
> Please let me know what you think! Sorry to all you Draco/Hermione shippers! It was my OTP when I wrote this (which was a long time ago, honestly) so I can remember the feels.


End file.
